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The Time Riders: Part 1
The Time Riders: Part 1
The Timeless Art of Shagging.
Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.
Give A Monkey A Gun.
Mark’s bedroom interrogation.
Mark sat in the chair in his bedroom by his computer desk,
trying to look chastised, but he was worried that a tiny hint of an evil smirk
was crossing his lips. He hung his head in the hopes it would be less
noticeable. Standing in the room with him were two stone-faced men in black
suits and dark glasses. They stared at him silently for several minutes before
glancing at one another. Finally, the shorter one sighed.
"Okay, Mark," he said heavily. "Once more,
from the top. I want you to give us as detailed an account of what happened as
you possibly can. Leave nothing out."
"Everything?" Mark asked quietly.
"Everything."
"Well, as long as you think you have the time."
Mark quipped, sitting up straight and leaning back in his chair somewhat
casually.
The tall man frowned. "Was that a joke?"
"Not a very good one, apparently," Mark muttered.
"Stick to the facts," the man said firmly. "We
hate jokes."
"No kidding," Mark mused, settling in to relay the
events he had already explained to them twice that evening. "Alright, let
me start at the beginning."
"Not funny, young man;” growled the shorter agent.
"I found the thing in the park. What did you say it's
called?" Mark asked.
"A Holmes Field Device."
"Right," Mark agreed, nodding. "I found the
Holmes Field Device in the large lilac bushes over in Grosvenor Park."
"Why were you in the bushes?" interrupted the tall
man.
Mark gave him a wry look. "I was making a drug deal. I
was supplying uranium to Libyan terrorists. I was hiding the body of a
transvestite hooker I killed. What does it matter? It's not your worry or
jurisdiction, if you're telling me the truth, is it?"
"Fair enough," said the shorter agent amicably.
"Please proceed, Mark."
Mark nodded. "It was really small and compact at first
and I didn't know what it was. But it kinda gave off a hum and it almost had a
glow, I dunno. I pulled it out of the bushes and over to a secluded area where
there was still some light from nearby lamps. Anyway, I must've tripped a catch
or something on it, because the thing folded out on itself into what looked
like a platform and grew these weird-ass frames with displays and dials and
buttons and shit. It was like something out of Star Trek."
"I can see how it might appear advanced to you,"
the shorter agent said, nodding. "To my partner and I, it's rather
primitive, but that's not your problem. Please proceed."
"Once I was sure that no one was around or likely to
come through, I began fiddling around with the dials," Mark continued.
"At first I was confused, because it didn't seem to do much, except spit
up weird numbers on the analogue screens, but then I thought about it and
realized they were dates. They were just; off."
"Not off," the shorter man said. "Just dates
set by a different calendar, if you will. The Holmes Field Device was developed
by Ashleigh Holmes, the younger brother of the more famous Sherlock and
Mycroft, but he was perhaps even more brilliant. He modified the Gregorian
calendar to account for leap years and Daylight Savings, changed the accounting
of seconds, minutes, hours and so on to eliminate the need for such
inconsistencies. The Holmes Calendar will be adopted eighty three years in your
future, but it is so accurate that it won't need to be modified until the year
12,645 AD."
"Huh." Mark said in response, not caring much.
"Oh, and he also invented the temporal displacement
device you found," the man added. "Although it'll be another two
hundred and eight years before that comes to light."
"Anyways," Mark continued, killing the history
lesson. "Once I figured out they were dates and times, I tried setting the
time back a few hours. After that, I started pushing some buttons. Things got
blurry for just a split second and then the sun was blinding me. I was still
alone, but I stepped off and looked around, still in the same spot, but
obviously at a different time of day. I looked at the clock on my cellphone and
it seemed to have adjusted to say it was six hours earlier, just like I'd set
the dials."
"Your phone adjusted accordingly. Electronics will do
that."
"I was really excited to look around but realized I
didn't want to be caught and I suddenly thought I should be careful."
"What a novel idea," the tall man said dryly.
"Go on."
"Well, I went back to the Holmes Field thing and set it
to take me back to the time I'd come from. And it did. Then I began thinking
about what sort of things I might be able to do if I was careful."
"And this is where it got interesting, yes?" the
shorter agent remarked.
Mark explains his connection to Becky.
Mark nodded. "Maybe I could change things. Not big
things, but little things. It suddenly occurred to me the D that Miss Fischer
gave me on my Physics exam earlier in the semester had kept me from getting
into the university of choice I'd applied to. So I decided to see if I could
fix that somehow;”
Mark crept through the bushes under the cover of dark, oddly
certain than no one was going to see him. He couldn't explain why, but he felt
a confidence that he would not be discovered because he hadn't been there
before. It didn't make sense, but maybe that was a good thing.
He knew where Miss Fischer lived, he'd seen her pull into
the small, stand-alone house in her Rav4 on many occasions. He slipped onto her
property through her back yard, instinctively knowing that her rear door would
be unlocked. It was already ten o'clock, but there was no school the next day
so she was still likely to be up.
A stick snapped in the yard one lot ever. His head snapped
around to see if he'd been spotted, but he didn't see anything. A dog began
barking. Stupid animal scared the shit out of him.
He moved quietly across the lawn to the back door, opened it
slowly and found himself in a small kitchen. It was dark except for a small
night-light and he paused, listening for movement, hearing no one nearby. He
stared in bewilderment at the sheer amount of organic cereals and grains that
lined the counters around the room, along with fresh fruits and other
nutritious snacks. No wonder she always seemed so perky, even if she was shy
and retiring.
Beyond the kitchen, he could see the living room and small
dining room were still lit. He padded across the linoleum floor silently, hearing
nothing. He peeked into the dining room and through it into the living room.
No one. There was a yoga mat on the floor in front of the
long, flat-screen TV. The decor consisted of low tables and beanbag chairs
others. Damn, this woman was crunchy.
He heard water running upstairs and some off-key singing. He
crept up the steps to the second floor, preparing himself for what would no
doubt be an awkward situation, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he needed
to do this, whether he liked it or not. There was a shower happening and he now
recognized Miss Fischer's voice. She seemed to be alone and her vehicle had
been standing by itself in the driveway. If she was already showering, she
wasn't going out again.
Mark approached the bathroom, noticing the door was wide
open. He guessed that made sense, since Miss Fischer had told the class more
than once that she lived lamentably alone. She took the teasing from her
students good-naturedly, but now he could confirm it. She was a bachelorette.
She was singing and he could hear the shower water splashing
off her body as he hid beside the door. He couldn't believe he was doing this.
He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, calming his nerves before
subtly peeking around the door and into the bathroom.
There was no tub, just a walk-in shower. His eyes went wide
when he realized that her shower stall was composed of fog and steam-proof
glass, giving him an almost completely uninterrupted view of the activities
within. Except for the droplets of water that trickled down the treated glass
panes, he could see his teacher in all her naked glory. Miss Fischer was facing
away from him, running her fingers through her long, wet blonde hair, swaying
her body back and forth, her amazing ass glistening wetly.
He tuned out her rather painful singing of a Beyoncé song
and let his gaze travel up and down her womanly form. His heart thundered in
his chest, to the place where he was worried she might hear it. Miss Fischer
always dressed rather modestly at school and he was shocked to see what a
rocking' bod she had. Clearly she hadn't been lying about the yoga and the
CrossFit she claimed to do.
Her skin was fair, but not pale. Her shapely back tucked
into a small waist, which in turn blossomed out into fit hips which were
anchored by her amazing ass. Her long legs tapered down to tiny ankles. If he
hadn't been so astonished and exhilarated, he would have had a massive hard-on
by now.
"C'mon, turn around;” he found himself urging
her silently.
Miss Fischer obliged and Mark thought he might faint. She'd
always been pretty, of course, but Mark doubt that anyone at school would have
guessed what a sex-pot their Physics teacher was. Where the hell had she been
keeping those tits? Did she fucking strap them down? They were large, yet
perky. The tiny pink nipples sat atop them proudly, announcing the arrival of
their mistress right behind them. Her stomach was flat, but still soft, begging
to be kissed. He forced himself to look lower and saw that her cunt was shaved
except for the small strip of trimmed hair above. The nether lips were even and
not quite plump, but still dismissed any worries of a bony thigh-gap. Her clit
hood barely peeked out over the top.
"Fucking fuck;” he thought, his mind racing. "Who
knew Miss Fischer was so insanely hot?"
He watched rapt, utterly forgetting that she might see him
if she happened to look his way. The blonde seemed to have no interest in life
beyond those glass panes, however, as she caressed her body slowly, making sure
she was cleansed of her organic craft shower gel. Her manicured hands glided up
and down her lovely body while she closed her eyes, letting the water from the
showerhead rinse it away.
As Mark watched, she kept her eyes closed but bit her lip
gently, one of her hands moving up to slowly and gently caress her tits while
the other snaked its way down her stomach and between her legs to begin playing
with her cunt. A quiet sigh escaped her mouth and Mark felt his cock rapidly
swelling inside his jeans.
The teacher pressed her forehead against the glass, her eyes
still closed. Her hand massaged her ample tits while the hand between her legs
moved up and down slowly, massaging the lips. Mark swallowed and adjusted his
cock inside his pants as he watched intently, unable to believe he was being
treated to this incredible show. Another moan escaped her lips as she pleasured
herself and began pinching one of her nipples.
It took all of Mark's willpower to not pull his cock out and
begin stroking it on the spot, because he had other plans. Miss Fischer, not so
constrained, continued to finger her cunt until she was panting. She stopped
suddenly and reached up to pull the detachable showerhead off its arm and
brought it down to her body. She hummed as she let the stiff streams beat
against her shoulders and then her tits. Mark could see her already hard
nipples getting ever harder.
She then slowly moved the showerhead down her sensual form,
over her trim stomach and between her legs. She let out a loud sigh as the
water battered her lips and clit. She turned herself around again, pressing her
ass cheeks against the glass while she put the showerhead under her cunt to
continually stimulate it. Her cheeks squirmed rhythmically around on the glass
pane as she jet-fucked herself. Mark watched in disbelief as one hand came back
behind and spread her cheeks to play with her little, puckered knot.
Miss Fischer let out a grunt as her middle finger slid
inside her ass while the showerhead continued to bombard her cunt with its tiny
jets. Mark gripped the front of his pants again, unable to resist, giving
himself a squeeze. He sincerely hoped she wouldn't last much longer, because he
wasn't sure he would if she kept this up.
Fortunately for Mark, his teacher did not seem terribly
interested in delaying her reward. The squirming became more pronounced and she
groaned as her body began to tremble and then shake. Her finger was working
itself in and out of her ass faster and faster while the showerhead was almost
crushed to her cunt lips.
She let out a gasp and a cry before falling to her knees,
her body almost spasming as she came. Mark gritted his teeth as he watched,
desperately willing himself to not massage his cock and join her in autoerotic
bliss. The restraint would be worth it. He removed his hand and settled for
squeezing the doorframe while watching his teacher. Miss Fischer slowly leaned
forward until her head was on the floor, her ass in the air. She moved
the shower jets slowly up and down over her molten sex while her finger teased
her ring. He listened to her panting and sighing as she started to come down
from what was a clearly badly-needed orgasm.
Mark couldn't wait much longer or he'd lose his nerve. He
quietly stepped into the bathroom and started to head toward the shower. Miss
Fischer had finally moved up back into a kneeling position, still facing away
from him and taking slow, deep breaths. She then got to her feet and replaced
the showerhead back in its arm above her. She rinsed her face and body again
before turning off the water.
Silently, Mark waited off to the side while she slid open
the door and stepped out somewhat awkwardly, trying to get her long, wet hair
out of her face. She groped around blindly for several moments and Mark
realized she'd forgotten where she put her towel. He handed her a hand towel
which she absently took and wiped her face with before pushing her hair back.
Mark meanwhile handed her a full-sized body towel.
"Thank you, Mark," she said pleasantly. "I'm
always; Mark!"
This last bit was exclaimed loudly and she slammed herself
back against the opposite wall from him, her eyes wide with utter shock. Both
towels she'd been holding flew from her grip, leaving her naked and dripping
wet. He had no idea why, but he tried to maintain eye contact with her.
"Uh; hi, Miss Fischer," he said somewhat awkwardly
before swallowing. "Uh; nice shower you've got there."
Some of her wits seemed to return and she realized she was
standing naked in front of one of her students. She moved her hands about
haphazardly, making several comical attempts to cover herself, eyes still wide
and mouth agape.
"Wha; wha; y; you;” she stammered.
"Yeah, I didn't exactly expect to be here either,"
he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "First of all, don't scream or
anything. I'm not here to’
"Then why are you here, you little pervert?" she
hissed, finally regaining control of her vocal chords. "Get the fuck out
and I'll possibly consider not calling the police!"
"I; can't;” he admitted weakly.
She frowned and looked down at his legs, choosing to ignore
the rather obvious bulge in the front of his pants. "Your legs work just
fine, young man, but I'll tell you what's not going to after I've kicked you
there if you don't get out of my house."
"No, I;” he began but then realized he didn't quite know
how to articulate what he wanted to say. What the hell had he been thinking,
doing any of this?
He finally bent over and picked up the large body towel
she'd lost and handed it to her. "Maybe; I guess you should put this on
first;”
She snatched it away from him and wrapped it around her
body, but if he'd been hoping this made her more amenable to his presence then
he'd been wrong. What did happen was her eyes began to blaze with fury
as she composed herself.
"So help me, Mister Simmons," she growled as she
advanced on him menacingly, her near-nudity forgotten. The towel did very
little to conceal her buxom figure. "If you don't tell me right this
instant what the hell you are doing in my house, watching me take a shower,
I'll show you exactly what CrossFit has done for me, along with the jiu-jutsu
classes. You'll be wishing I'd called the cops."
Mark held up his hands, hoping to calm her. "There's no
need for that, teach, I’
"Don't call me that off school grounds,"
she snapped, still moving toward him until it was Mark backed up against the
wall. "Ex-plain your-self;”
Mark swallowed again, fearing for his well-being. He'd been so
much smoother when he thought this over in his head earlier. "You; you
failed me on the Physics exam."
She paused in her menacing advance for a moment and raised
an eyebrow. "Your exam isn't for another two months. Irrelevant. Why are
you creeping on me?"
"I know it isn't," he said hastily. "But;
you're going to fail me."
"Then maybe you should be back home studying instead of
breaking into my house," she snapped, getting ready to beat him senseless.
This wasn't like him, but that was no excuse for endangering her. "Last
chance and then it's night-night time with my fist in your brain."
Mark squeezed his eyes shut, trying to compose himself. His
heart was pounding so hard that he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to get another
erection again. "It; I can't explain it if I think you're going to kill
me! Please stop threatening to kill me and I'll tell you."
She stopped cornering him and paused, looking annoyed and
skeptical. "This'd better be good, because you're either going to find
yourself punched unconscious by a girl or talking to the cops. Explain and then
you get your choice."
"It's; actually really good," Mark breathed.
"I'm not me. I mean, I'm me, but not the me you know."
"A doppelganger?" she asked dryly, not amused.
"Lay off the sci-fi and anime, Mark, it's making you too stupid for
physics."
"No, I;” he paused and took another deep breath.
"I'm Mark from this coming up summer."
"Oh, you're a time-traveler now, are you?" she
mused snidely. "So tell me, since you already know; do I eat your heart or
your liver tomorrow with my afternoon salad?"
"Look, look;” he said, trying to keep his voice from
pissing itself in fear as he reached into his wallet. "Look, here's my new
voter ID that I got just after my birthday."
He held it out for her to look at. She glanced at it and
then up at him, clearly not impressed. "Ya' know, other kids fake their
ID's to say they're old enough to drink. This one just says you're now
eighteen. No wonder you're failing physics, you can't even fake an ID
right."
"Uh, no, I;” Mark stammered, frustrated with how badly
he was fucking up. "I can't help when I'm from, I'm from three months in
the future."
"And you're here to tell me I'm secretly pregnant with
the man who will lead us to victory over the AI machines?" she sneered.
She cracked her knuckles. "It's a pity, you actually were a pretty
good-looking kid before I did this to you;”
"No," he blurted out. "I came here to
convince you to change my grade because the university I wanted to go to
rejects me over that grade!"
She paused for a moment. "Okay, so why didn't you just
study?"
He shrugged nervously. "I don't know. I can't do
anything about that now. Except like this."
Miss Fischer stopped and closed her eyes for a moment. This
was the weirdest home invasion and rape she'd ever heard of. "What?"
"Maybe; it was stupid of me to fail," Mark said.
"But that's my past. I can't change it directly. But I was hoping to come
here and convince you to let me pass anyway."
"If for some reason I were inclined to believe
that you were from the future, which I don't,
View all episodes
By Steamy StoriesThe Time Riders: Part 1
The Timeless Art of Shagging.
Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 16 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.
Give A Monkey A Gun.
Mark’s bedroom interrogation.
Mark sat in the chair in his bedroom by his computer desk,
trying to look chastised, but he was worried that a tiny hint of an evil smirk
was crossing his lips. He hung his head in the hopes it would be less
noticeable. Standing in the room with him were two stone-faced men in black
suits and dark glasses. They stared at him silently for several minutes before
glancing at one another. Finally, the shorter one sighed.
"Okay, Mark," he said heavily. "Once more,
from the top. I want you to give us as detailed an account of what happened as
you possibly can. Leave nothing out."
"Everything?" Mark asked quietly.
"Everything."
"Well, as long as you think you have the time."
Mark quipped, sitting up straight and leaning back in his chair somewhat
casually.
The tall man frowned. "Was that a joke?"
"Not a very good one, apparently," Mark muttered.
"Stick to the facts," the man said firmly. "We
hate jokes."
"No kidding," Mark mused, settling in to relay the
events he had already explained to them twice that evening. "Alright, let
me start at the beginning."
"Not funny, young man;” growled the shorter agent.
"I found the thing in the park. What did you say it's
called?" Mark asked.
"A Holmes Field Device."
"Right," Mark agreed, nodding. "I found the
Holmes Field Device in the large lilac bushes over in Grosvenor Park."
"Why were you in the bushes?" interrupted the tall
man.
Mark gave him a wry look. "I was making a drug deal. I
was supplying uranium to Libyan terrorists. I was hiding the body of a
transvestite hooker I killed. What does it matter? It's not your worry or
jurisdiction, if you're telling me the truth, is it?"
"Fair enough," said the shorter agent amicably.
"Please proceed, Mark."
Mark nodded. "It was really small and compact at first
and I didn't know what it was. But it kinda gave off a hum and it almost had a
glow, I dunno. I pulled it out of the bushes and over to a secluded area where
there was still some light from nearby lamps. Anyway, I must've tripped a catch
or something on it, because the thing folded out on itself into what looked
like a platform and grew these weird-ass frames with displays and dials and
buttons and shit. It was like something out of Star Trek."
"I can see how it might appear advanced to you,"
the shorter agent said, nodding. "To my partner and I, it's rather
primitive, but that's not your problem. Please proceed."
"Once I was sure that no one was around or likely to
come through, I began fiddling around with the dials," Mark continued.
"At first I was confused, because it didn't seem to do much, except spit
up weird numbers on the analogue screens, but then I thought about it and
realized they were dates. They were just; off."
"Not off," the shorter man said. "Just dates
set by a different calendar, if you will. The Holmes Field Device was developed
by Ashleigh Holmes, the younger brother of the more famous Sherlock and
Mycroft, but he was perhaps even more brilliant. He modified the Gregorian
calendar to account for leap years and Daylight Savings, changed the accounting
of seconds, minutes, hours and so on to eliminate the need for such
inconsistencies. The Holmes Calendar will be adopted eighty three years in your
future, but it is so accurate that it won't need to be modified until the year
12,645 AD."
"Huh." Mark said in response, not caring much.
"Oh, and he also invented the temporal displacement
device you found," the man added. "Although it'll be another two
hundred and eight years before that comes to light."
"Anyways," Mark continued, killing the history
lesson. "Once I figured out they were dates and times, I tried setting the
time back a few hours. After that, I started pushing some buttons. Things got
blurry for just a split second and then the sun was blinding me. I was still
alone, but I stepped off and looked around, still in the same spot, but
obviously at a different time of day. I looked at the clock on my cellphone and
it seemed to have adjusted to say it was six hours earlier, just like I'd set
the dials."
"Your phone adjusted accordingly. Electronics will do
that."
"I was really excited to look around but realized I
didn't want to be caught and I suddenly thought I should be careful."
"What a novel idea," the tall man said dryly.
"Go on."
"Well, I went back to the Holmes Field thing and set it
to take me back to the time I'd come from. And it did. Then I began thinking
about what sort of things I might be able to do if I was careful."
"And this is where it got interesting, yes?" the
shorter agent remarked.
Mark explains his connection to Becky.
Mark nodded. "Maybe I could change things. Not big
things, but little things. It suddenly occurred to me the D that Miss Fischer
gave me on my Physics exam earlier in the semester had kept me from getting
into the university of choice I'd applied to. So I decided to see if I could
fix that somehow;”
Mark crept through the bushes under the cover of dark, oddly
certain than no one was going to see him. He couldn't explain why, but he felt
a confidence that he would not be discovered because he hadn't been there
before. It didn't make sense, but maybe that was a good thing.
He knew where Miss Fischer lived, he'd seen her pull into
the small, stand-alone house in her Rav4 on many occasions. He slipped onto her
property through her back yard, instinctively knowing that her rear door would
be unlocked. It was already ten o'clock, but there was no school the next day
so she was still likely to be up.
A stick snapped in the yard one lot ever. His head snapped
around to see if he'd been spotted, but he didn't see anything. A dog began
barking. Stupid animal scared the shit out of him.
He moved quietly across the lawn to the back door, opened it
slowly and found himself in a small kitchen. It was dark except for a small
night-light and he paused, listening for movement, hearing no one nearby. He
stared in bewilderment at the sheer amount of organic cereals and grains that
lined the counters around the room, along with fresh fruits and other
nutritious snacks. No wonder she always seemed so perky, even if she was shy
and retiring.
Beyond the kitchen, he could see the living room and small
dining room were still lit. He padded across the linoleum floor silently, hearing
nothing. He peeked into the dining room and through it into the living room.
No one. There was a yoga mat on the floor in front of the
long, flat-screen TV. The decor consisted of low tables and beanbag chairs
others. Damn, this woman was crunchy.
He heard water running upstairs and some off-key singing. He
crept up the steps to the second floor, preparing himself for what would no
doubt be an awkward situation, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he needed
to do this, whether he liked it or not. There was a shower happening and he now
recognized Miss Fischer's voice. She seemed to be alone and her vehicle had
been standing by itself in the driveway. If she was already showering, she
wasn't going out again.
Mark approached the bathroom, noticing the door was wide
open. He guessed that made sense, since Miss Fischer had told the class more
than once that she lived lamentably alone. She took the teasing from her
students good-naturedly, but now he could confirm it. She was a bachelorette.
She was singing and he could hear the shower water splashing
off her body as he hid beside the door. He couldn't believe he was doing this.
He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, calming his nerves before
subtly peeking around the door and into the bathroom.
There was no tub, just a walk-in shower. His eyes went wide
when he realized that her shower stall was composed of fog and steam-proof
glass, giving him an almost completely uninterrupted view of the activities
within. Except for the droplets of water that trickled down the treated glass
panes, he could see his teacher in all her naked glory. Miss Fischer was facing
away from him, running her fingers through her long, wet blonde hair, swaying
her body back and forth, her amazing ass glistening wetly.
He tuned out her rather painful singing of a Beyoncé song
and let his gaze travel up and down her womanly form. His heart thundered in
his chest, to the place where he was worried she might hear it. Miss Fischer
always dressed rather modestly at school and he was shocked to see what a
rocking' bod she had. Clearly she hadn't been lying about the yoga and the
CrossFit she claimed to do.
Her skin was fair, but not pale. Her shapely back tucked
into a small waist, which in turn blossomed out into fit hips which were
anchored by her amazing ass. Her long legs tapered down to tiny ankles. If he
hadn't been so astonished and exhilarated, he would have had a massive hard-on
by now.
"C'mon, turn around;” he found himself urging
her silently.
Miss Fischer obliged and Mark thought he might faint. She'd
always been pretty, of course, but Mark doubt that anyone at school would have
guessed what a sex-pot their Physics teacher was. Where the hell had she been
keeping those tits? Did she fucking strap them down? They were large, yet
perky. The tiny pink nipples sat atop them proudly, announcing the arrival of
their mistress right behind them. Her stomach was flat, but still soft, begging
to be kissed. He forced himself to look lower and saw that her cunt was shaved
except for the small strip of trimmed hair above. The nether lips were even and
not quite plump, but still dismissed any worries of a bony thigh-gap. Her clit
hood barely peeked out over the top.
"Fucking fuck;” he thought, his mind racing. "Who
knew Miss Fischer was so insanely hot?"
He watched rapt, utterly forgetting that she might see him
if she happened to look his way. The blonde seemed to have no interest in life
beyond those glass panes, however, as she caressed her body slowly, making sure
she was cleansed of her organic craft shower gel. Her manicured hands glided up
and down her lovely body while she closed her eyes, letting the water from the
showerhead rinse it away.
As Mark watched, she kept her eyes closed but bit her lip
gently, one of her hands moving up to slowly and gently caress her tits while
the other snaked its way down her stomach and between her legs to begin playing
with her cunt. A quiet sigh escaped her mouth and Mark felt his cock rapidly
swelling inside his jeans.
The teacher pressed her forehead against the glass, her eyes
still closed. Her hand massaged her ample tits while the hand between her legs
moved up and down slowly, massaging the lips. Mark swallowed and adjusted his
cock inside his pants as he watched intently, unable to believe he was being
treated to this incredible show. Another moan escaped her lips as she pleasured
herself and began pinching one of her nipples.
It took all of Mark's willpower to not pull his cock out and
begin stroking it on the spot, because he had other plans. Miss Fischer, not so
constrained, continued to finger her cunt until she was panting. She stopped
suddenly and reached up to pull the detachable showerhead off its arm and
brought it down to her body. She hummed as she let the stiff streams beat
against her shoulders and then her tits. Mark could see her already hard
nipples getting ever harder.
She then slowly moved the showerhead down her sensual form,
over her trim stomach and between her legs. She let out a loud sigh as the
water battered her lips and clit. She turned herself around again, pressing her
ass cheeks against the glass while she put the showerhead under her cunt to
continually stimulate it. Her cheeks squirmed rhythmically around on the glass
pane as she jet-fucked herself. Mark watched in disbelief as one hand came back
behind and spread her cheeks to play with her little, puckered knot.
Miss Fischer let out a grunt as her middle finger slid
inside her ass while the showerhead continued to bombard her cunt with its tiny
jets. Mark gripped the front of his pants again, unable to resist, giving
himself a squeeze. He sincerely hoped she wouldn't last much longer, because he
wasn't sure he would if she kept this up.
Fortunately for Mark, his teacher did not seem terribly
interested in delaying her reward. The squirming became more pronounced and she
groaned as her body began to tremble and then shake. Her finger was working
itself in and out of her ass faster and faster while the showerhead was almost
crushed to her cunt lips.
She let out a gasp and a cry before falling to her knees,
her body almost spasming as she came. Mark gritted his teeth as he watched,
desperately willing himself to not massage his cock and join her in autoerotic
bliss. The restraint would be worth it. He removed his hand and settled for
squeezing the doorframe while watching his teacher. Miss Fischer slowly leaned
forward until her head was on the floor, her ass in the air. She moved
the shower jets slowly up and down over her molten sex while her finger teased
her ring. He listened to her panting and sighing as she started to come down
from what was a clearly badly-needed orgasm.
Mark couldn't wait much longer or he'd lose his nerve. He
quietly stepped into the bathroom and started to head toward the shower. Miss
Fischer had finally moved up back into a kneeling position, still facing away
from him and taking slow, deep breaths. She then got to her feet and replaced
the showerhead back in its arm above her. She rinsed her face and body again
before turning off the water.
Silently, Mark waited off to the side while she slid open
the door and stepped out somewhat awkwardly, trying to get her long, wet hair
out of her face. She groped around blindly for several moments and Mark
realized she'd forgotten where she put her towel. He handed her a hand towel
which she absently took and wiped her face with before pushing her hair back.
Mark meanwhile handed her a full-sized body towel.
"Thank you, Mark," she said pleasantly. "I'm
always; Mark!"
This last bit was exclaimed loudly and she slammed herself
back against the opposite wall from him, her eyes wide with utter shock. Both
towels she'd been holding flew from her grip, leaving her naked and dripping
wet. He had no idea why, but he tried to maintain eye contact with her.
"Uh; hi, Miss Fischer," he said somewhat awkwardly
before swallowing. "Uh; nice shower you've got there."
Some of her wits seemed to return and she realized she was
standing naked in front of one of her students. She moved her hands about
haphazardly, making several comical attempts to cover herself, eyes still wide
and mouth agape.
"Wha; wha; y; you;” she stammered.
"Yeah, I didn't exactly expect to be here either,"
he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "First of all, don't scream or
anything. I'm not here to’
"Then why are you here, you little pervert?" she
hissed, finally regaining control of her vocal chords. "Get the fuck out
and I'll possibly consider not calling the police!"
"I; can't;” he admitted weakly.
She frowned and looked down at his legs, choosing to ignore
the rather obvious bulge in the front of his pants. "Your legs work just
fine, young man, but I'll tell you what's not going to after I've kicked you
there if you don't get out of my house."
"No, I;” he began but then realized he didn't quite know
how to articulate what he wanted to say. What the hell had he been thinking,
doing any of this?
He finally bent over and picked up the large body towel
she'd lost and handed it to her. "Maybe; I guess you should put this on
first;”
She snatched it away from him and wrapped it around her
body, but if he'd been hoping this made her more amenable to his presence then
he'd been wrong. What did happen was her eyes began to blaze with fury
as she composed herself.
"So help me, Mister Simmons," she growled as she
advanced on him menacingly, her near-nudity forgotten. The towel did very
little to conceal her buxom figure. "If you don't tell me right this
instant what the hell you are doing in my house, watching me take a shower,
I'll show you exactly what CrossFit has done for me, along with the jiu-jutsu
classes. You'll be wishing I'd called the cops."
Mark held up his hands, hoping to calm her. "There's no
need for that, teach, I’
"Don't call me that off school grounds,"
she snapped, still moving toward him until it was Mark backed up against the
wall. "Ex-plain your-self;”
Mark swallowed again, fearing for his well-being. He'd been so
much smoother when he thought this over in his head earlier. "You; you
failed me on the Physics exam."
She paused in her menacing advance for a moment and raised
an eyebrow. "Your exam isn't for another two months. Irrelevant. Why are
you creeping on me?"
"I know it isn't," he said hastily. "But;
you're going to fail me."
"Then maybe you should be back home studying instead of
breaking into my house," she snapped, getting ready to beat him senseless.
This wasn't like him, but that was no excuse for endangering her. "Last
chance and then it's night-night time with my fist in your brain."
Mark squeezed his eyes shut, trying to compose himself. His
heart was pounding so hard that he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to get another
erection again. "It; I can't explain it if I think you're going to kill
me! Please stop threatening to kill me and I'll tell you."
She stopped cornering him and paused, looking annoyed and
skeptical. "This'd better be good, because you're either going to find
yourself punched unconscious by a girl or talking to the cops. Explain and then
you get your choice."
"It's; actually really good," Mark breathed.
"I'm not me. I mean, I'm me, but not the me you know."
"A doppelganger?" she asked dryly, not amused.
"Lay off the sci-fi and anime, Mark, it's making you too stupid for
physics."
"No, I;” he paused and took another deep breath.
"I'm Mark from this coming up summer."
"Oh, you're a time-traveler now, are you?" she
mused snidely. "So tell me, since you already know; do I eat your heart or
your liver tomorrow with my afternoon salad?"
"Look, look;” he said, trying to keep his voice from
pissing itself in fear as he reached into his wallet. "Look, here's my new
voter ID that I got just after my birthday."
He held it out for her to look at. She glanced at it and
then up at him, clearly not impressed. "Ya' know, other kids fake their
ID's to say they're old enough to drink. This one just says you're now
eighteen. No wonder you're failing physics, you can't even fake an ID
right."
"Uh, no, I;” Mark stammered, frustrated with how badly
he was fucking up. "I can't help when I'm from, I'm from three months in
the future."
"And you're here to tell me I'm secretly pregnant with
the man who will lead us to victory over the AI machines?" she sneered.
She cracked her knuckles. "It's a pity, you actually were a pretty
good-looking kid before I did this to you;”
"No," he blurted out. "I came here to
convince you to change my grade because the university I wanted to go to
rejects me over that grade!"
She paused for a moment. "Okay, so why didn't you just
study?"
He shrugged nervously. "I don't know. I can't do
anything about that now. Except like this."
Miss Fischer stopped and closed her eyes for a moment. This
was the weirdest home invasion and rape she'd ever heard of. "What?"
"Maybe; it was stupid of me to fail," Mark said.
"But that's my past. I can't change it directly. But I was hoping to come
here and convince you to let me pass anyway."
"If for some reason I were inclined to believe
that you were from the future, which I don't,